


Betting On Forever

by mrstotten, veritas_st



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-11 17:18:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrstotten/pseuds/mrstotten, https://archiveofourown.org/users/veritas_st/pseuds/veritas_st
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not like Stiles spends a huge amount of time thinking about it.  But when he does it seems strange, <i>good</i> strange, but strange nevertheless, he cant really put a finger on when they decided to become civil to each other let alone friends, best friends even. </p><p>Him...and Derek Hale.  Can you imagine it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Betting On Forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Black_Calliope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Calliope/gifts).



It’s not like Stiles spends a huge amount of time thinking about it. But when he does it seems strange, _good_ strange, but strange nevertheless, he cant really put a finger on when they decided to become civil to each other let alone friends, best friends even. 

He thinks maybe it happened when they bonded over the death of Derek’s family. Either way, him and Derek are friends, oddly enough, and they spend more time together then Derek does with his own uncle, or Stiles does with his own father for that matter. 

Stiles was 14 when Derek Hale’s family house burned down, a fault in the wiring wiping out almost an entire family in a heartbeat, leaving only Derek, his sister and uncle behind. Stiles remembers it like it was yesterday, the announcement over the loud speaker at school asking for Derek and Laura to come to the Principal’s office, the hushed whispers of the teachers the next period, and then the silence, in his house, as Stiles pushed open the door, knowing his dad wasn’t there and that something horrible had happened. 

Derek and Laura had been taken out of school for a year, some said that Peter had a breakdown and took the kids to live in the mountains somewhere, others said they had all gone crazy. Either way, Stiles had kept his head down, worked his skinny butt off and somehow been put forward a year at school. Into Jackson and Lydia’s year, one step closer to Lydia Martin, Stiles had thought. Scott had pined for a whole week until Allison Argent had turned up as new girl in Stiles year and somehow looked twice and Stiles’s best friend in the year below her and after that Stiles had been pretty much forgotten. Not that he minded, his work load increased exponentially until his head was full of school work and there wasn’t much place for anything else. 

That was until Derek and Laura had come back to school. 

Due to Derek having missed a year of school Stiles found himself sitting next to the brooding teenager two years older than him in Chemistry, Biology, English Lit and History. It hadn’t been so bad at the start, Derek had pretty much ignored him and Stiles had just gotten on with the work like he always had, and ignored the word vomit that threatened to spill whenever Derek was in the vicinity. Which given the list of classes they sat next to each other in was hard. 

It wasn’t that he knew what to say, or even what Derek felt, the loss of his mother was enough for him, he couldn’t imagine what pain the three remaining Hale’s had gone through, and were more than likely still going through. It was because, for some reason Derek made him nervous and when Stiles got nervous…well he got chatty although a few death stares had put a stop to the chat pretty darn quickly, for the most part. 

It had been about half way through the first year of Derek being back that he’d lifted his head from his History book and uttered more than the necessary words to Stiles. 

“So I was thinking we could study at my place tonight.” It wasn’t a question, and Stiles could almost hear the underlying order under his words. He blinked, swallowed around his suddenly dry throat and blinked again and said the first words that came into his mouth. 

“You have a place?” Derek’s eye had twitched, “Oh God I am so sorry, I didn’t mean that, of course you have a place, I mean it’s not like you live in the woods, or an abandoned warehouse or anything like that I just meant…” he trailed off as Derek’s lips twitched, “ok, I’m shutting up now.”

“Peter rebuilt the house, or rather got it rebuilt while we were away,” Derek offered and Stiles had blinked again. Because obviously faced with actually talking to Derek Hale Stiles turned into a wordless mess. When he wasn’t babbling crap about Derek not having a home…obviously. “I mean, if you don’t want too then…”

“No…” For a second Stiles had thought Derek had looked hurt but he’d rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and ignored the rumble as Stiles’s stomach had announced it was lunch time. 

“No what?”

“Sorry, sometimes I forget not everyone follows my train of thought…what time?” Stiles tried to grin, feeling somewhat like the world had just started turning backwards. Derek Hale was offering up his private life to Stiles, for no reason other than they’re were doing a project together in History. 

“After school,” Derek had replied and gone back to copying notes from the board. 

“Ok.”

…

The Hale house had been bigger than Stiles had remembered. The frontage different, there was a wrap around porch now with a porch swing in one corner that hadn’t been there when Derek’s family had been alive. Stiles could still remember the Hale family barbeques, the Hale family had been in Beacon Hills for generations, practically owned half the town, and had opened up their house during the summer to entertain the town. And Stiles could remember looking up at the house aged five thinking it was a castle. 

But it had been bigger, is the point, and the long legged girl curled up on the porch swing with one leg hanging off, her toes just touching the ground pushing the swing every now and then had been Laura, although Stiles wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t uncurled herself and stuck her hand out, her name sounding like music to Stiles’s ears. She was beautiful, then again the entire family had been, and despite Stiles’s strongly straight proclivities, he could even say that Derek was beautiful, in a very rugged and manly way of course. Laura had her brother’s thick dark hair, or rather Derek had his sisters, a slight curl at the ends, eyes the colour of…well Stiles had still yet put a finger on the exact colour of the Hale’s eyes, but they were a bluey green. Greeny Blue perhaps. Either way they were almost mesmeric and Derek had stabbed Stiles in the ribs with his elbow and grinned at his sister before ushering Stiles inside. 

“No crushing on my sister,” he had said and Stiles had spluttered something in a way of explanation, but was struck by the rare smile on Derek’s face. 

He likes to think that’s how they became friends, however tentative. 

It wasn’t until months later that Derek had opened up, one too many swigs of the Sheriff’s alcohol, and a great view of the stars from Stiles’s back yard and he’d just lost the ability to put a stopper on the words, the ache, the pain of losing his family, how Peter was holding it together, how Laura seemed stronger than all of them. 

Stiles had done the only think he could have done, the only thing that worked with Scott when Scott got maudlin about his dad, and reached between them and curled their fingers together. He hadn’t said anything, neither had Derek, but they were closer after that, especially when Stiles remembered the date of the fire and turned up the day after (he knew what it was like when well meaning people bothered you on the actual day) with a stolen 6 pack of beer of dubious quality and a rolled up blanket. 

Even though he’s not 100% positive, he’s pretty sure that’s when they became best friends. 

…

“Wanna hang out tonight?” Stiles shifts his phone under his ear and holds out his favourite Batman t-shirt and his favourite Bullseye one in front of him. 

“Can’t, hanging out with Derek,” he answers and Scott sighs, “just because Allison’s busy,” Stiles says and Scott lets out a small embarrassed laugh. 

“Yeah, but duuuuude, we never hang anymore,” he whines and Stiles throws his bullseye shirt back onto his floor. He pulls the phone out from under his ear and tries to extract himself from the t-shirt he wore at school today. He gets stuck with his arm sticking half out of the head hole. 

“It’s his birthday,” he shouts, and misses Scott’s reply as the phone clatters to the floor and he manages to haul both arm and head through the hole and pull the Batman shirt over his head. “Sorry,” he mutters at the now silent Scott, who he can imagine shrugging because he knows Stiles, and knows that Stiles can’t do only one thing at once, like talk on the phone without trying to get dressed. 

“Between you being like an untapped genius…”

“Hey…less of the untapped thank you,” Stiles defends his virginity with a grimace, even though he knows full well Scott wasn’t talking about that. 

“And Allison, and Derek, we never hang anymore,” he whines against and Stiles sits heavily on his bed and hauls a shoe out by a lace from under it. He frowns and slides to the floor, reaches under his bed and pulls out the other shoe. 

“Not my fault you’re whipped,” he mutters, clasping the phone under his ear again and reaching down to pull his laces tight. “Listen, Scotty Scott Scott, it’s Derek’s birthday man, I promised, tomorrow though ok?” 

“Ok,” Scott grumbles but he knows he’ll be texting Allison and grinning like the idiot he is within two minutes of hanging up on Stiles. It’s why he loves Scott, that and the fact that Scott didn’t leave his side for three months, literally, after his mom died, Scott bounces back so easily. 

“Stiles,” his dad shouts as Stiles runs down the stairs and past the living room. Stiles grabs a hold of the door jamb and nearly slips on the rug by the front door. 

“Derek’s birthday, gotta go,” he says, “love you,” and ducks out of the house before his dad can answer. But he’s pretty sure there will be some eye-rolling going on right now. 

…

Stiles lets himself into the Hale house, Peter told him to just walk in already after he got annoyed with having to answer the door to Stiles’s numerous visits when he and Derek became friends. He’s greeted by Merry, Derek’s lab pup, who attacks him with the love that he’s come to not fear anymore. He bit Stiles once, hard, but after Derek had told him off in the tone one usually reserves for small children, explained at Stiles was “pack” (his word, not Stiles’s) he had licked him practically to death and loved him ever since. Pippin isn’t far behind, Derek’s other puppy, a curly haired mongrel of a dog that had the biggest doe eyes Stiles had ever seen. Whatever Merry does, Pippin follows and Stiles crouches down and pulls them both into an awkward, licking hug. The fact that Derek had called his dogs after the Hobbit’s had been a great source of teasing for Stiles who revelled in the fact that Derek was a closet geek.

“Derek?” he calls once they have finished licking him and roll off in a weird puppy ball of fur and playful yips. 

“Here,” Derek’s voice floats through the house from the kitchen and Stiles makes his way there rubbing at the dog drool on his cheek.

“So happy birthday buddy, you ready to go get wasted and pick up chicks, well you pick up chicks, my love life sadly is non existent, and obviously less of the alcohol as we’re both underage and my dad’s the sheriff…um…hi,” he stalls in front of a startlingly beautiful blonde girl with hair curling over her shoulders and a smile a mile wide on her lips. 

“Stiles this is Erica,” Derek says and there’s a small embarrassed blush on his cheeks. 

“I didn’t mean that about the chicks, I meant for me, Derek’s a great wingman, although he’s not that great as my pitiful love life will be testament to, I’m going to shut up now,” Stiles clamps his lips together at the laugh coming from Erica’s mouth bringing a wide smile to Derek’s face and tells himself the stab of jealousy in his stomach is to do with being left behind on the single train…again. 

“Erica…this is Stiles,” Derek says, like it’s meant to mean something to her. Erica flicks her hair off her shoulders and nods. 

“So…” she starts, reaching backwards and curling her arm around Derek’s waist, “we ready to go?”

…

Turns out Erica is the same age as Stiles, in Stiles’s class at school actually, a transfer student same age as Stiles, which doesn’t stop Derek from putting his hands all over her though in a way that makes Stiles want to vomit. 

They end up bowling, Erica showing off her incredible figure with every opportunity and Stiles can see why Derek can’t seem to take his eyes off her. 

“Why the long face?” Derek asks when Erica sidles off to get drinks, his elbow digging into Stiles’s ribs. 

“Just tired,” Stiles answers, going into sulk mode for a reason he can’t fathom. Derek narrows his eyes in the way that usually gets Stiles to spill everything but then his face softens. 

“Oh shit Stiles I’m sorry,” he smacks his forehead, “I can’t believe I forgot,” he pats at Stiles’s knee and it takes a second for Stiles to realise he’s talking about Stiles’s mom. She died next week and Stiles always goes into mope mode around the time, he feels sick that he forgot even for a second. 

“Don’t apologise, I shouldn’t have come out really but it is your birthday after all,” he says, swallowing down his last mouthful of watery, flat coke. 

“And if you hadn’t,” Derek says with a glance towards where Erica is making her way back across the bowling alley, “you wouldn’t have met Erica,” with that Erica winds one arm around Derek and leans in enough to show off her impressive cleavage and kiss Derek’s on the neck. Derek smiles like he’s never smiled before and Stiles feels bile rise in his throat. 

He manages to get home relatively early, with a headache building behind his eyes and a sick feeling in his stomach and goes to bed, dreams of Erica digging red talons into Stiles’s ribs. 

…

“Mind if I sit down?” Stiles looks up from his History text book, mouthful of what claims to be mash potato but Stiles seriously thinks might be wallpaper paste to find Erica standing over him with her mile wide grin. 

“Um...sure,” he kicks the chair out in front of him and Erica sits, takes a bite of her apple and wrinkles her brow as she chews thoughtfully. 

“Ok this is probably going to sound like paranoid girl syndrome but I get the feeling you don’t like me,” she says and Stiles feels his stomach cramp with guilt. 

“I…”

“I know you’re important to Derek, he basically talks about you, Peter and Laura and that’s it. I just wanted to get to know you a little, because I like Derek Stiles, I really do,” she smiles genuinely, one that starts off on her lips but spreads across her whole face to her eyes. 

“That’s great, I’m glad, I really am, and I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t like you, I do, from what I know, I just…there are a few things right now that, you know what? You don’t need to know, you probably don’t care, so I’m gonna shut up now,” Stiles trails off and Erica grins again. 

“I think I like you too, Stiles,” she laughs gently and takes another bite of her apple, stands and makes her way through the dining room, drawing every guys eyes as she walks past. 

“What…the holy hell…is that?” Lydia Martin braces her hands on the edge of Stiles’s table and Stiles thinks he’s going to have a heart attack. He’s had a crush on the girl since he was three and now she’s actually talking to him, for the first time in his life. He takes a sip of his water. 

“Erica…Reyes, transfer student,” he gasps out and Lydia spares him a look that reads ‘do I know you?’ before flicking her hair and walking off. 

…

“So she’s great right?” Derek asks that evening, his foot nudging Stiles’s head lightly. Stiles grimaces, pushes at Derek’s foot and sits, glares down at him. 

“Erica? Yeah, she’s great,” he replies, because she is, and if there’s one thing he’s learnt about Derek, it’s that he can’t seem to lie to the guy. Derek cocks his head to the side and then smiles. Erica is great, she’s sweet, has a smile that makes Stiles smile right back, she’s totally smitten with Derek, in a way that makes Stiles want to vomit sometimes. But there’s just something, niggling, taunting, at the back of his mind, and he can’t put his finger on it. He shrugs and Derek sits as well, pushes at his shoulder. 

“She’s an animal as well,” he says quietly, with a slight blush of embarrassment but a wolfish grin. Stiles feels his eyes widen. 

“Have you?” He knows that Scott and Allison are going at it like sex crazed rabbits on Viagra whenever they can, but he’s never really thought about Derek. Probably because Derek’s always been single, like Stiles. Derek shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair. 

“Not yet.”

“Ok but when you do, no gruesome details please, I get enough of that from Scott,” Stiles grumbles and Derek pouts sarcastically at him. 

“Aww, someone jealous?” 

“No, just…gah…” he lets out a noise that crossed between a cat being strangled to death and a girly scream as Derek launches at him and covers his face with a pillow, his fingers digging into the spaces between Stiles’s ribs. 

“Admit it,” he hears muffled through the pillow and taps against Derek’s bicep twice. Derek relents, lifts the pillow and grins down at him. 

“Dick,” Stiles pokes him in the stomach, “and fine, I’m jealous, because I totally want to bone you,” he smirks at Derek. 

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“Not Erica, apparently,” Stiles grins and Derek shakes his head. 

“Oh Stiles…why do you provoke me?” His face breaks out into a slow grin, and he launches himself at Stiles with a growl. 

“Fuck…”

…

At the beginning of the second year with Derek by his side in most classes, a new girl turns up at school. She’s pretty, cute, blonde, and smiles shyly at Stiles on day one in the lunch hall. Derek digs him in the ribs and nods in her direction. 

“Go talk to her,” he whispers and Stiles rolls his eyes, makes a face at Derek as his sips at his water. 

“Yeah, because my track record is so great so far,” Erica kicks him gently under the table. 

“You’re too hard on yourself Stiles…you’re totally cute,” she swirls her fork through her pasta surprise and grimaces, takes a sip of water and Stiles nudges Derek in the ribs. 

“You hear that Derek, you’re girlfriend thinks I’m hot,” he sings and Derek rolls his eyes. 

“I said cute,” Erica corrects. 

“I heard hot,” Stiles shrugs and shovels a forkful of his pasta into his mouth. 

“Idiot,” she grumbles but then her face breaks out into a sneer that Stiles has come to realise means he’s going to regret something and she pushes her chair out and stalks over to the new girl. Stiles slips lower in his chair and tries not to choke on his food as Derek chuckles beside him. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,” Stiles mutters under his breath and catches his knee on the underside of the table as Erica and the new girl approach them, “gotta go,” Stiles announces and Derek grabs the back of his jeans and hauls him back into his seat. 

“Stay,” he orders as Erica arrives at their table. 

“Derek, this is Aubrey, Aubrey my boyfriend Derek,” Aubrey smiles shyly again and Derek smiles right back at her. She blushes, and Stiles has seen that effect more than once. “And, this is Stiles,” Erica does a little flourish with her hand and pulls out the chair in front of Stiles and sits back in the one in front of Derek. Aubrey mutters hello and sits, tucks her hair behind her ear. Derek nudges him in the ribs again. 

“So Aubrey…” Stiles starts and Aubrey looks up at him, blinks big blue eyes at him, the same time Derek and Erica lean forward together to watch and Stiles swallows, “gotta go.” He bolts, manages to make it out of his chair before Derek can pull him back and hides out in the locker room until lunch is over. 

…

“Derek’s here,” his dad calls from the kitchen as Stiles heads towards his room, he stops mid step and sticks his head around the door frame, “and he’s pissed at you.”

“How did he…” Stiles trails off and hits his head against the frame, “damn Camaro…”

“Why’s he pissed at you?” The Sheriff asks, not taking his eyes off the files in front of him. 

“Why is anyone ever pissed at me?” Stiles shrugs and his dad raises an eyebrow. 

“Because you’re an idiot.”

“Right…thanks dad, love you too.” His dad waves absently at him and goes back to his files and Stiles looks at the stairs like they’re a mountain before climbing them slowly and pushing his door open. Derek’s arm reaches out and hauls him inside, uses his body to slam the door shut. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Whoa dude, anyone ever tell you, you get handsy when you’re angry?” Derek’s frowns at him, and although a lot of people shake in their boots when Derek Hale frowns, Stiles can see the softness underneath, the caring side of Derek that’s only pissed because Stiles didn’t even make an effort with Aubrey. 

“Again Stiles…what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me? You’re the one waiting in my room to slam me against the wall like we’re in some cheap porno,” the corner of Derek’s eye twitches, “and you know what? There’s probably something wrong with her anyway.”

“Why?” Derek asks, letting him go and Stiles rubs the back of his head. It didn’t hurt, Derek’s done it more than once but he’s starting to think he may get a flat head if Derek does it anymore. 

“Because…” Stiles starts and Derek raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Because?”

“Have you looked at me recently?” Stiles spreads his arms and Derek smirks. 

“Unfortunately yes,” Derek replied and Stiles feels his face fall, against his own wishes. 

“See?” he says with a shrug. Derek takes a step towards him, frowns again and shakes his head. 

“Ok that’s not what I meant and you know it. Stiles…”

“I’m just not…Scott, or Jackson, or Danny…or _you_ ,” Stiles waves his hand at him. Derek’s the full package, good looking, built, smart, yet there’s a soft side underneath, sometimes so far underneath that Stiles thinks it might be suffocating under all that muscle. 

“No but you’re you,” Derek says, poking him in the chest and Stiles rubs at the spot with the heel of his hand. 

“And what’s that mean?” he asks and Derek lets out a small laugh, taking another step closer. Stiles swallows. 

“You really want me to pull out the poetry?” Derek asks with an eyebrow arched over one bluey green, greeny blue eye. 

“I’m not asking you to seduce me,” Stiles shoves at his shoulder and Derek laughs, “ just tell me why the hell a seemingly sane girl would want to be with me,” Derek’s face falls to a serious look and he claps Stiles on the shoulder, his thumb somehow finding it’s way under Stiles’s t-shirt. 

“How many friends do I have?” He asks and Stiles frowns, his mind almost distracted from the conversation at the feel of Derek’s thumb moving in slow circles. 

“Loads,” because it’s true, everyone loves Derek, apart from Jackson, but that’s maybe because Jackson is jealous of the fact that Danny has a massive crush on Derek. Plus Jackson hates pretty much everyone. 

“How many?” Derek asks again narrowing his eyes slightly. 

“Five?” a shake of his head and Stiles sighs, “Four?” Derek scoffs, “Ok fine, two if you include Erica,” Stiles concedes and Derek shakes his head, his thumb moving against Stiles’s neck like it’s meant to be there. 

“No Stiles, one. You,” he squeezes Stiles’s shoulder gently, “now ask me again why I think she would want to be with you,” Derek raises his eyebrows expectantly and Stiles sighs. 

“That’s different,” he says and Derek frowns, and neither of them mention the fact that he’s still got his hand on Stiles’s shoulder. Stiles leans back against the door again. 

“How?”

“Because…because, God I hate you,” Stiles sighs again and Derek grins, his hand slides off Stiles’s skin. 

“No you don’t,” he says, patting Stiles once on the arm, “and if you don’t talk to her tomorrow, I’m going to make you…”

“Yeah…how?”

“I’ll think of something.” 

…

By some miracle, and by miracle Stiles means Derek pushing him practically at the feet of Aubrey as she is standing at her locker, Stiles manages to say three words to her, all of them incoherent, but her face lights up as she smiles at him. 

Stiles is taking it as a win. 

It takes him a further three days to actually say something coherent to her, and she laughs, tucks her hair behind her ear. 

After that it just starts to get easier. Aubrey starts joining them at lunchtime and Erica being awesome makes her feel welcome in a way that neither Stiles nor Derek has the hang of yet. It takes several more weeks for Stiles to actually work up the courage to ask her out though. The release of the new Batman movie and the facts that Erica was kidnapping Derek for a weekend with her family at a wedding and that Allison and Scott had finally got a weekend without either of their parents around meaning Stiles was without his usual go to guys for super hero shenanigans. He had to admit it had made him feel really good, Aubrey’s bright smile when he asked her out, her eyes sparkling and her generally acting like he, Stiles Stilinksi had just made her day. 

He spends the rest of the day on a high, only Derek’s growly face frown putting a damper on things, but he puts that down to the fact that he is missing the epicness of Batman to deal with family politics and dancing than because Stiles asked Aubrey out, after all this had been what Derek wanted, right?

“Dude…what the hell am I going to wear?” Stiles sighs heavily as Derek makes a non-committal noise from his bed. “What’s up with you grumpy?”

Nothing…Batman,” Derek nods at his closet and Stiles wrinkles his noise. 

“Wore it yesterday.”

“Stud muffin,” Derek picks at something on his jeans. 

“Too obvious,” Stiles replies and Derek sighs. 

“I dunno Stiles, to be honest I don’t care,” Stiles frowns and kneels at the end of the bed by Derek’s feet. 

“Ok harsh…what’s going on?” Derek shrugs and Stiles runs his finger along the arch of his foot. Derek twitches, and there’s a smile threatening on his lips, “don’t make me do it against Derek,” he warns. 

“Nothing’s wrong, promise…just pissed I don’t get to see The Dark Knight with you,” Stiles may not have Derek’s freaking ability to know when he’s lying, but he’s pretty damn sure Derek’s lying right now. He cocks his head to the side and Derek shrugs again and looks down at his hands. 

“Ok,” Stiles answers and gets off the bed, wanders back to his closet and hauls out his Bulls-eye shirt, he holds it up for Derek. 

“That one,” Stiles hauls his old shirt over his head and pulls the new one on and holds his arms out as he looks at Derek. Derek cocks his head to the side, “as good as it’s ever gonna be,” he mutters. 

“Fuck you,” Stiles grins. He should be nervous, he should be pacing and biting his nails and wondering what the hell he’s going to say, but there’s something about Derek that calms Stiles.

“You wish kiddo,” there’s something dark swimming under Derek’s eyes and Stiles feels like the airs just been sucked out of the room. It’s meant to be a joke, light and amusing but somehow it misses by a mile. Derek grins though, after what feels like an age, although the grin doesn’t quite cover the look in his eyes and Stiles clears his throat and tugs on the hem of his t-shirt. 

“Ok you can go now,” he says waving his hand at the window and Derek lets out a small laugh, stands, stretches and Stiles doesn’t look at the strip of skin between Derek’s t-shirt and the bottom of his jeans. 

“Have fun,” he calls as he jumps out of the window and Stiles shakes his head. Why can’t the guy use the door like everyone else?

…

The date itself goes off without a hitch, and before he can blink it seems like he has a girlfriend, a hot girlfriend, the type that guys stare after and he can totally see their eyes go from him to Aubrey then back as if to say _how did Stilinski pull that off_.

The cherry on the cake is that as well as being gorgeous Aubrey is awesome, she loves basketball, comics, the same movies and books as Stiles and has a killer sense of humour, and to top it all off his friends actually likes her. Of course with Scott it is more that Aubrey means Stiles spends less time with Derek and Erica, but it is still pretty amazing finally getting his friend back. Double dates bringing back team Stilinski and McCall without Stiles feeling like a spare wheel.

Of course Derek goes into sulk mode, Stiles knew he was never great at the sharing thing, and more time with Scott and Allison meant less time with Derek and Erica and left Derek walking round school like someone had kicked his puppy.

It took a couple of months to finally find the balance between spending time with both couples and some time alone, that and the reinstitution of weekly guys night with him and Derek once a week seemed to bring a smile back to his friends face. Of course that did leave less time for him and Aubrey to be alone, but she didn’t seem to mind, see hadn’t he said she was great?

It took another few months before Stiles started to realise that Aubrey wanted more. He felt like an idiot, an outsider the first time she moved his hand to her breast, because shouldn’t it be him making these moves, trying to get her to move further, instead it just felt _odd_ Stiles had spent the last three years thinking about what it would feel like to finally get to this point with a girl (specifically Lydia Martin), to feel her soft body under his, strawberry tasting lips opening up under his own, tasting fresh and sweet. Aubrey’s body was soft and smooth and she was letting _him_ in, inviting him to touch, to feel to taste. And it all just felt _wrong_. It’s during one of their most recent make out sessions that things finally take a turn for the weird. When he finally had it figured out, why things weren’t working with Aubrey the way they should, she reminded him of Derek. With her, like with Derek he felt comfortable, he could be himself, he could smile and laugh and not worry that the other person thought he was different, too hyper, to loud, too _Stiles_. 

The problem is he comes to this conclusion while Aubrey’s lips are on his neck, he’s thinking about Aubrey, then how much she reminds him of Derek, and before he can stop his mind wandering down the track it was on, something he has never had much success with, he thinks about Derek’s lips on his neck, how they would feel rougher, chapped with the wind and the way he always bit down on them when he ‘s thinking. Instead of smooth skin there would be the burn of stubble, rough and scratchy against his skin, he wouldn’t be gentle, with soft closed mouthed kisses against his neck, Derek’s lips would be open, rough, demanding, taking more and more before biting down on the soft piece of skin between his neck and his shoulder, and it’s this thought that causes Stiles cock to suddenly go hard in the middle of his make out session with his girlfriend. 

Aubrey’s sweet, surprised but pleased smile makes his stomach clench with guilt, this was the first time in five months of make out sessions he’s reacted as strongly as this, and it makes her happy, makes her smile to see that her boyfriend isn’t a freak, that she can make him aroused, and how the hell can he ever explain that it wasn’t her, that he had gotten hard thinking of his best friend. And how the hell had that happened anyway? 

He tries to think of an excuse, any excuse as she goes back to his neck, her soft sweet mouth trying to recreate the reaction. Stiles has never been happier to hear his father come into the house. Their hurried movements to get clothes back in order forestalling the words that Stiles doesn’t want to say.

Aubrey leaves, the same secret, shy smile on her face and Stiles flops down on the bed, his stomach churning with a mixture of guilt and bone deep arousal at the thought of Derek’s lips. What the fuck is wrong with him? He has a beautiful, fun sexy girlfriend and all he can think about is what it would feel like to have his best friend’s mouth on him, those hands, so huge that Stiles used to make inappropriate and pretty tasteless jokes about them, sliding over his stomach, twisting beneath his jeans and cupping his dick.

Smothering a moan, Stiles snakes his own hand around himself, groaning as the relief of finally being touched causes pre come to spill out, aiding his hand, making his dick wet and slippery. Giving himself over to the weird, warped fantasy and the sure and certain knowledge that he belonged in the seventh circle of hell right now, he moves his hand as he thinks about Derek, of all fucking people, Derek bloody Hale, his body crowding on top of Stiles, hard and strong, pushing him into the mattress, his lips making a path of bites and nips down Stiles neck and chest, he comes with Derek’s name on his tongue and tears in his eyes.

He cleans off his hands and then buries his face in his pillow as he realises how truly fucked he is. He was an overactive hyper ADD ridden freak who rather than wanting to mack on his extremely hot girlfriend is making himself come at the thought of his best friend, his very straight best friend.

When did he develop this gay hard on for Derek?

What the fuck was his life?

…

It doesn’t take him long the next day to realise exactly what he’s going to do, which is nothing. Stiles is adept at ignoring the pink elephant in the room, to shoving his fingers in his ears and lalalalaing his way into a better reality.

What happened yesterday would be ignored. He has a great girlfriend, a magnificent girlfriend who is hot and sweet and funny. More than that Derek is his best friend, and he’s straight and he has an equally hot and wonderful girlfriend who Stiles adores and would never hurt (not only because he’s still a little certain she could rip his throat out with her teeth if she wanted to), not that it matters because Derek is _straight_ and he doesn’t want Stiles that way and to push these feeling onto his friend who doesn’t want them, would mean the end of his friendship, and Stiles needs Derek. There. He admits it, he _needs_ Derek, everything else could be ignored, but not that, so Stiles will push it down, ignore it and make things work with Aubrey. He isn’t going to lose the person he loves over something as stupid as a mixed up crush.

Of course the fact that the person he loves and is most afraid of losing is Derek should clue him into how doomed this plan was, but he’s Stiles, and he will go on ignoring the pink elephant. Thank you very much.

Of course the one blocker in the plan to ignore pink elephants is alcohol, cos everyone knows with alcohol, pink elephants get a free rein, which is why when Derek turns up with some beers and a video when his dad is on night shift for their weekly boys night, Stiles knows he should make an excuse, but he also knows that there has been something wrong with Derek and Erica all week. Derek has been moody and snappy in a way that he only gets when he is worried or scared, so Stiles battens down the hatches on the pink elephants stables and invites him in.

They are on their third beer when Derek brings up the fact that he knows things have gone further with him and Aubrey, his shrug and glance away coupled with a mumbled ‘Erica told me’.

“Well yeah,” Stiles starts awkwardly. “I mean it’s the furthest we went but there is still, just…well lets say it hasn’t went any further…” he slurs and is well aware that his sentences aren’t making any sense anymore. 

Derek’s eyes are hooded, but Stiles can read him well enough to see the curiosity underneath and this is so not the conversation he should be having right now. He needs to remind himself of all the reasons why talking about that night is a bad idea.

“So Erica?” Stiles asks, his change of conversation making one of Derek’s eyebrows rise, and god dammit how could something that should remind him a cheesy cartoon villain make Derek look so fucking attractive.

“Erica?” Derek parrots, his tone inviting Stiles to go further.

“Yeah, or rather, you and Erica, how did you, you know” Stiles waggles his eyebrows in a way that he knows always makes Derek smile and ignores the burst of heat in his chest when it works. “How did you guys take it to the next stage?”

“We didn’t,” Derek states baldly. “We haven’t, you know.”

“Wait, still!” Stiles buts in. “You mean you and Erica still haven’t, you know?” At Derek’s shake of his head Stiles finds himself unable to contain his next words. “But dude you guys have been together for nearly a year”

“So?” Derek asks, his manner getting defensive. Recognising the signs Stiles drops the conversation, handing over another beer and refusing to admit that he’s pleased that Derek hasn’t taken that step yet.

The silence is broken over their fifth beer as they sat on the rug, their backs to the sofa and the heady buzz of alcohol along with the warmth of sitting body to body with Derek making him feel sleepy, unguarded.

“So why d’you want to know?” Derek asks. At Stiles blank look, he lets out a frustrated sigh. “About me and Erica, why do you…are you thinking of….with Annie?”

Stiles wants to answer the question but his eyes have ended up level with Derek’s lips as his friend kneels slightly. “Cos you know that’s a big step Stiles, you should make sure it’s right… that she’s…..so you love her?” The question seems to come out in a rush as if Derek hadn’t meant the words to come out but hadn’t been able to stop them. Derek’s eyes are hooded and there is something in them that Stiles didn’t see often, a softness that he had sometimes surprised on his friends face as Derek had listened to him go on about a madcap adventure, or telling stories about his mum. He doesn’t see it often and has never seen it this close before.

“I don’t….” Stiles stutters over the questions, kneels up so he’s facing Derek, their knees almost touching. “There is something and she is great and when I kiss her I want to…” at the word kiss, Stiles sees Derek’s eyes drop to his lips and he finds himself unable to stop his tongue coming out to wet his lips, like an instinctive reaction, he sees Derek’s pupils dilate and his head come forward and even as the warning flashes through his mind, he’s unable to stop the top half of his body moving towards Derek as if pulled by a magnet and he is unable to stop himself as their bodies meet, their chest touching and their lips a hairsbreadth apart, so close he can feel the warmth of Derek’s breath as it ghosts across his lips, can smell the beer and fresh mint pulling him towards him. 

But in the end it is Derek who makes the final step, his mouth closing over Stiles’s own, it’s hesitant, slightly awkward, but there’s a pressure building in Stiles’s chest as Derek presses closer, seeking permission. Stiles opens his mouth, his tongue darting forward, granting the permission and in a heartbeat the kiss changes, from soft and exploratory, to open, dark and rough as if Derek is claiming him through the kiss, marking him as Derek’s, for a moment Stiles wonders if he still knows how to breathe or if he even cares.

This is what has been missing from every kiss he and Aubrey had ever shared, his heart’s pounding, his body feels alive as a thousand and one nerve ends are set alight. Derek’s hands are cupping his face, one hand creeping round to curl at the back of Stiles’s neck, his thumb pressing in lightly under Stiles’s chin and in an instant Stiles realises that this, _this_ is what he has been waiting for, this is all he’s ever wanted.

It takes one word to bring his world crashing down, as Derek pulls away from Stiles, his eyes wide, pupils blown, and a soft almost wondering smile on his face. Stiles twists his hand in Derek’s shirt to pull him back in but a word slips out of Derek’s lips before he can, _Erica_ , he sees Derek’s lips open to say more but stops him before they come, his hands untangling and pushing Derek away before pushing himself off his knees and standing, ignoring the dizziness brought on by the alcohol and the kiss he thought he would never get to have, he runs his hands over his short hair.

“Yes, Erica, your girlfriend Erica, my friend Erica….”

“Stiles…” Derek starts, pushing himself up and moving towards Stiles. “No, it’s not…..”

“Aubrey,” Stiles breaks in desperately his mind grabbing onto the first thing he can think off to wade off Derek’s pity, of Derek trying to explain what just happened.

“Aubrey?” Derek repeats the name as if it were a question.

“Yes Aubrey,” Stiles answers. “My girlfriend Aubrey who you are trying to help me get to fourth base with and well if that was a lesson, then yep would definitely work, but no back to Aubrey, your girlfriend Erica’s friend, my girlfriend Aubrey.” Stiles tries to control the word vomit as it leaves his mouth, trying desperately for something, anything that will stop Derek figuring out what just happened.

“You kissed me to help you get Aubrey into bed?” Derek’s question this time is harder, bit out with some force, which makes sense, I mean come on its not every day your best friend practically jumps in your lap, of course Derek had kissed back, actually technically Derek had started it, but hey… _drunk_ and the first word that had left his lips was Erica, leaving Stiles in no doubt at where his mind was during the kiss.

“Yes, well know, I just need to know how to… you know!”

“No I don’t know Stiles, how about you enlighten me.” Derek’s words are definitely harsher now, his anger seeping through and Stiles searches desperately for a way to bring things back, to let Derek know that things could go back to the way they were.

“I love her,” the words slip out easily, and not for the first time, Stiles almost flinches at the ‘I know you’re lying’ face that Derek gives him. Even though it’s not technically a lie, he does love her, he’s just not _in love_ with her. This though, this tiny white lie, this could pull them back. “I love her and I want to, you know, go to that next step with her and I need you to know help me.”

Derek closes his eyes, and for half a second Stiles actually thinks he’s in some kind of pain, but when Derek opens his eyes again, all that’s there is a blazing hot anger. “I think you are beyond help Stilinski,” he sneers.

Stiles feels his own hackles rise at the tone of Derek’s voice. “What the fuck do you mean by that?” he asks, half confused and half angry at Derek’s tone. All of him wondering what the hell has happened in his life recently. 

“I mean, dream on, you really think she is going to go to bed with you?” Stiles knows deep down that something is wrong, this is Derek, _his_ Derek and he had never, _ever_ spoken to Stiles like this. “Face it Stiles, you aren’t the type of guys girls like Aubrey pop their cherry with.” There’s a bite to Derek’s tone, an underbelly that feels almost furious, like the way a wounded animal at Dr Deaton’s, would react to a threat, but the words just stir a fire in Stiles Belly.

“Ha, like you are any better,” he snaps back.

“What do you mean by that?” Derek replies, his tone icy and dangerous.

“Well you aren’t having much luck getting Erica to fall for your oh so manly charms, at least Aubrey and I have only been dating a few months, you have had a full year and she still won’t so much for the great Hale charm.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me and Erica,” Derek grinds out.

“Oh yeah?” Stiles asks. “I know I could get Aubrey into bed before you manage it with Erica.”

“You think so,” Derek ask his eyes flashing.

“I know so, in fact I am so sure I am willing to bet the jeep on it.”

“The jeep?” Derek’s anger seems to fade slightly, his tone questioning. “You’re willing to bet your mothers jeep?”

“It’s not a bet I plan to lose.” Stiles answers with far more conviction than he feels. 

“I don’t want your mom’s jeep.” Derek replies his eyes hard.

“What do you want then?” Stiles asks confused, he doesn’t have much more than the jeep to barter with. 

“You…” Stiles’s feels his heart leap to his throat, “finish with her,” Derek replies the slight hesitation in his voice making his words sound harsher. “If I win, you break up with her, no arguments.”

“You want me to break up with Aubrey?” Stiles asks, pressing his fingers to his throbbing temple. “Dude you were the one that shoved us together in the first place.”

“I was wrong,” Derek states simply. “I don’t like the person you’ve become with her.” The sneering tone is back in his voice. For the first time Stiles realises they are facing each other like enemies

 

“And if I win?” Stiles asks, the fight going out of him, this is his best friend for fuck’s sake. “If I win you play nice with her…and Scott.” Stiles states, seeing Derek’s back go up, his eyes flashing dangerously and not for the first time Stiles wonders what his problem with Scott is.

“Deal.” Derek says, putting his hand out, Stiles leans forward, his brain struggling to figure out how it had come to this, how it had gone from easy conversation to kissing to arguing like enemies.

He feels his hand being enveloped in Derek’s, the sharp spike of electricity going up his spine almost making him miss Derek’s final words before leaving.

“But just so you know, I don’t intend to lose either.”

…

It takes them five days to speak to each other again, the longest they have ever gone without speaking. They both ignore the pleas from Erica and Aubrey to sort out whatever has gone wrong, in the end it was Scott that forces the issue. Sick of Stiles moping about and probably wanting some more free time to mack on Allison he drags a loudly objecting Stiles over to where Derek and Erica are sitting, Derek looking like he wants to growl at the world and Erica bored out of her mind.

“Ok pops, it’s your weekend for the kid, just so you know he has been a brat, if you give him back to me in this state again, we will be revising our custody agreement.”

With that Scott’s gone and Stiles is too shocked at Scott showing not only friendliness to Derek but some actual wit that he’s stunned into a temporary silence, and when he looks at Derek he sees the same sort of shocked look on his face. When their eyes finally meet, Stiles can see the spark of warmth and a smile grows across his face, within seconds they’re both giggling like hyenas, Stiles sitting to catch his breath and Derek murmuring between laughs that he didn’t know McCall had it in him.

Erica simply rolls her eyes at both of them, mutters insult about the male species making its way out, but even Stiles can’t miss the wide grin on her face, and like that, the fight is over.

…

It takes Stiles another two days to bring up the bet, worried about how it might be taken and wary of another fight, but Derek, after a moment’s hesitation, takes over the conversation.

“I want to cancel it,” he says quietly. “It was stupid and immature and definitely not fair to the girls, I didn’t mean the things I said that night Stiles, I was just….”

“Drunk?” Stiles supplies helpfully.

“Exactly,” Derek says, relief evident in his voice, “I also didn’t meant it about not liking Aubrey, she is…you…well you love her, and if you love her then that’s enough for me.”

“I…that is, I don’t….” Stiles tries to will the words out, to tell Derek the truth about his feelings for Aubrey, or the lack of, but he keeps wondering what if Derek looks further, if he begins to wonder what that kiss had been about, and the words stick in his throat. “I haven’t told her yet, you know about the love thing,” he finishing helplessly with a shrug.

Derek looks at him considering. “I think that’s smart buddy, give it some time, but I will make more of an effort with her, Scott too,” he tags on a little reluctantly.

“Wait, wait what?” Stiles stutters, astounded and delighted at the same time. “You’re going to be nice to Scott? Scott McCall, the guy who is most likely to be hit over the head by a bat by you for no reason whatsoever? That Scott”

“Yeah, that Scott,” Derek answers sourly. “You don’t need to be smart, I thought you would be happy.”

“I am,” Stiles interjects quickly, his hands talking with him in a way that only ever happened when he was really excited. “But you _hate_ Scott.”

“I don’t hate him,” Derek admits reluctantly. “It just used to bug me how much he always expected of you, but that doesn’t matter, it’s not my business, and Scott and Aubrey matter to you so I’m going to make an effort.”

“But why?” Stiles asks, more than a little confused.

“Because you matter to me, you moron,” Derek answers, the look on his face making him look like he’s questioning Stiles’s intelligence. Stiles gets that look a lot, but right now it doesn’t bother him. He and Derek are friends again, Derek is going to make an effort with Scott, and they no longer have the odd awkwardness of the bet between them. Life is good again.

The little niggly voice in the back of his head takes that moment to remind him that Derek had just said he was going to be nice to a girlfriend that Stiles doesn’t actually want, and there is still the matter of the big gay boner he has for his best friend, but Stiles tells the voice to shut the hell up and starts day dreaming about pink elephants. He has Derek back, that is all that mattered, the rest will take care of itself.

Somehow.

…

It takes a while for things to slot back the way they were. For a short time there’s a layer of awkwardness over their conversations, as if they are each worried the other is still angry and almost afraid of any physical contact, of course that ends not long after the Isaac and Jackson debacle when they share the particularly awesome experience of watching the quietest kid in class finally take enough of Jackson’s shit and explode, sending the school bully into a heap on the lacrosse field. They have to drag Isaac off and then watch Jackson take the walk of shame, caked in mud. 

It’s epic. 

The event causes three distinct things to happen. The first being that Jackson actually seems to respect people who stand up to him, something they should have maybe figured out with his friendship with Danny, and became friendly with Isaac (if Stiles had known he would have punched Jackson in the face years ago). The second that Isaac finally seems to come out of his shell and together with another loner Boyd, starts actually talking to people, he even hangs out Stiles and Derek a few times but always ends up drifting back towards Jackson and Danny, something about Derek and Erica just seems to make him uneasy, even though Erica is nothing but nice to him and sometimes Stiles thinks he sees hearts in Isaac’s eyes when he talks to her. And thirdly Stiles and Derek end up in a heap on top of each other on the lacrosse field after pulling the guys apart with cat calls, wolf whistles and even a remark by their team mate Matt that he thought they made a ‘great pair’ (Stiles still wonders if he was being serious) they end up getting past the awkwardness and go back to almost exactly the way they used to be. Of course every now and then Stiles feels eyes on him and swears that Derek’s staring, but when he looks up, he usually finds Derek engrossed in a book or conversation with friends. 

Stiles is also getting far better at coping with the touching. 

See, Derek’s never been much of a tactile person with anyone the only exceptions being Laura, Erica and Stiles, it has never been a problem before but now, Stiles seems to notice every single touch. Like the way they always end up together at group movie nights, Derek’s body pressed against his, his thigh warm and comfortable, the way he casually runs his hand over Stiles’s buzz cut before cupping the back of his head and pulling in for a hug, the way their fingers always seem to touch as they pour over books together, or meeting as they both share some fries at the diner. So many casual almost indiscriminate touches that Derek never seems to notice but that make Stiles’s nerves tingle, his skin retaining the memory of every touch. So much so that sometimes Stiles thinks he’ll always feel Derek. 

…

 

“Ok dude…this movie…is going…to blow…your…mind,” Stiles produces the DVD case from behind his back with a flourish, but not before he catches the unimpressed look from Derek. 

Scott’s sneaking around with Allison, Erica’s got family night and Aubrey is away with her family for the weekend, leaving no one but Derek to hang out with. Not that Stiles doesn’t want to hang out with Derek, just that it’s tempting to just reach out and touch him whenever he feels like it except he knows he can’t. 

“ _District 9_?” Derek arches an eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest. He looks the picture of comfort, legs crossed at the ankles, leaning back against Stiles’s headboard, but Stiles can see a slight hint of tension running through his body. 

“Yes, _District 9_ , it’s basically apartheid with Aliens,” Stiles punches the open button on his DVD player and puts the DVD in, punches the button against the bounces onto the bed beside Derek. Derek shifts to the side and Stiles leans back against the headboard, his whole body touching Derek’s from shoulder to knee. He should move, he knows he should, there’s enough room that they don’t have to sit this close but Stiles can’t seem to pull himself away from the heat radiating from Derek’s body. 

“I reserve judgement,” Derek mutters as Stiles presses play and then digs him in the ribs with his elbow. Derek scowl, rubs at his ribs and scowls some more. 

“You’ll love it,” he says, and shuffles around, ignores Derek’s sigh, and settles as the credits roll. 

…

Stiles wakes to find his face smooshed into Derek’s thigh and Derek’s fingers running through his hair as Wikus Van Der Merwe watches Christopher’s ship taking off over the streets of Johannesburg. He let’s himself revel in the feel of Derek’s fingers for a moment, taking pleasure from the way his nails catch against his scalp every now and then. 

“I hope you’re not drooling on my jeans,” Derek mutters and Stiles jumps, pushes himself up right and rubs a hand across his face. 

“My drool would only make them better,” he says and Derek rolls his eyes and reaches for the remote. 

“You were right,” he says and Stiles blinks. 

“About your jeans?” 

“No, idiot, the movie…mind blown,” Derek grins and flexes his fingers and Stiles tries to ignore the tingling against his scalp. 

“Told you,” he says and Derek punches him lightly on the arm. 

“Guess I should trust you more often hey?” Derek moves, stands and stretches, reveals a strip of skin between his (un-drooled on) jeans and his soft marl grey t-shirt. 

“I guess so,” mutters and licks at his lips. Derek clears his throat, drags his shirt back down and hooks a thumb in the direction of the window. 

“I should probably…” Stiles nods, and resists the urge to smack himself in the head. For God’s sake Stiles, he thinks, control yourself. It was just skin. Tanned, smooth, perfect skin that will probably feel like satin under your…shut _up_. 

“Ok,” he grins through his minds internal argument and Derek frowns slightly. 

“See you tomorrow though,” it’s posed as a question but Stiles grins at him as Derek hooks one leg out of the window. 

“Unless the world ends tonight,” he offers his usual farewell and Derek lets out a small laugh. Stiles tries not to dance, he may have ogled his best friend who wants nothing romantic (or sexual) to do with him, but he’s still using their inside joke, still making Stiles say the same thing they say every time Derek crawls out of his window. 

“We’re not due an apocalypse,” Derek replies, taps on the window ledge and lowers himself almost out of sight. 

“Night Derek,” Derek pauses, looks at Stiles long, his eyes unreadable. 

“Night Stiles.” 

…

Unfortunately Danny’s too damn lovable.

It’s supposed to be a guys night out, they’re invited along by Isaac, who seems to have less of a problem with Derek when Erica isn’t there. They grab their fake ID’s and hit the nightclubs along the strip. Somewhere along the line of bars that merge into one the more beers Stiles has, Danny suggests they head to _Jungle_ which is how he finds himself in a gay bar, being hit on by the hottest guy he has ever seen before in his life, well besides Derek.

Stiles has always assumed the only action he would get from a gay bar would be the drag queens wanting to mother him (and they do for the first half an hour they make it into the club), so when people starts buying him drinks, coming over to chat to him, even dragging him onto the dance floor and ok handsy touching is all the rage in gay bars, apparently, he’s surprised, flattered and pleased enough to ignore Derek’s growl of warning. He continues to ignore his best friends eyes glaring at him and whoever his current dance partner happens to be at the time, sure he might have some Dutch courage from the six beers he’s had and whatever that pink drink was (his vision is swimming slightly), but Derek isn’t the boss of him. Just because he doesn’t want Stiles doesn’t mean… Stiles ends that thought quickly enough, he may be drunk but he’s smart enough to know that way lies madness.

Several more drinks later and every caution is slung to the wind and rather than finding Derek’s eyes boring into his back intimidating, he’s starting to find it almost a turn on. The guy he’s dancing with now is built like Derek, all broad shoulders and huge arms, he even has similar hair and hint of stubble, in fact if Stiles squints….not that he’s squinting of course.

Of course it shouldn’t come as a surprise when he feels Derek crowd around him, moving in front of him and telling his hunky dance partner to fuck off, because the one thing even more certain than Stiles’s hopeless crush on his best friend, is that his best friend is a clueless interfering asshole who never sees what’s right in front of him.

“Dude, what the fuck, I was dancing with him,” Stiles whines.

“Dancing, that what you call it?” Derek asks, a thread of steel in his voice.

“Well yeah, we are on the dancefloor, there is music, we were moving in time with the music, what would you call it?” Stiles answers, the barb in his voice clear even over the pounding music.

“Well if I was your girlfriend and I saw that, I’d go with cheating,” Derek snaps, his hand shooting out to grab Stiles as he turns away.

Stiles sees red, all the crap he’s been feeling over the last few months spilling out with the alcohol and the anger. “Well you’re not my girlfriend and you are not my keeper Derek so fuck off.”

Stiles pulls his arm away and turns to leave the dance floor, his temper spiking as Derek shoves his way in front of him, he takes a breath ready to head into round two with his so called buddy, when Derek’s next words knock the very breath out of his body.

“You want to dance? Dance with me.”

Stiles looks at Derek, takes in the tense rigid stance of his body and the total sincerity in his eyes. 

“You can’t dance,” were the only words that made it out of Stiles mouth.

“So teach me,” comes the soft reply.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“I don’t think I care anymore.” 

Everything in Stiles head screams that this is the wrong move, that whatever else is happening this is just going to make it worse, but his body doesn’t seem to be willing to listen, it moves as if pulled by the same magnetic force it had been subjected to before when Derek’s lips were against his own, moving towards Derek, to the smell, the feel of _home_. And Stiles thinks it might be the alcohol that’s making him sound like a poetry major. Their bodies slot together as if they are made this way and for a moment, just one brief moment Stiles thinks perhaps he can have this. Not everything, not Derek the way he wants him, but he can have _this_.

Their bodies move slowly, following each others rhythm rather than the music. His hands are on Derek’s chest, flexing gently against the soft grey t-shirt. His fingers feel like they are being lit with sparks, like when you were a kid and you rubbed your feet against the carpet until you felt the electricity spark. He can hear Derek’s breathing as he pulls Stiles in closer, his lips aligned with Stiles ear and Stiles closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and lets the feeling take over. 

It’s like time stands still and everything zeroes down to just this, to him and Derek. All he can think about is the solid weight of Derek’s chest beneath his fingers, the steady heartbeat that Stiles swears skips slightly as Stiles whisper his name. The feel of Derek’s breath warm on his ear and the smell of grass, cologne and mints that his mind had long ago associated with Derek without ever being truly aware of it, makes him feel… _alive_. 

The soft sound of his name in reply causes Stiles to pull his head back, his eyes falling to Derek’s lips, the magnetic pull coming back in full force. His lips are less than a whisper away when his brain finally kicks in, reminding him with brutal clarity that this isn’t a smart thing, isn’t the right thing, that this way, all that will happen is he’d hurt two people he cares about and lose his best friend forever. A small part of him registers Derek licking his lips, the look in his eyes, worried, confused makes Stiles pull back abruptly.

“I’m sorry……I shouldn’t have….I’m drunk…..it’s…..oh god I’m sorry.” 

Stiles runs from the dance floor, ignoring Derek’s panicked calling of his name, he runs out of the club and ducks into the alley sitting alongside, he tries to control his breathing as he hears his friends pile out of the club looking for him, melts back into the wall. He really truly should not be allowed to drink. 

Banging his head against the wall again and again, the tears spill over, run down his cheeks, the mantra of ‘stupid, stupid, stupid’ falling from his lips. 

How the hell is he going to move forward from this one?

…

As it happens, he applies his same brand of blind ignorance as the last time. He ignores his dad telling him Derek was looking for him, ignores Derek’s repeated calls and the text message, short and (not so) sweet.

 _We need to talk_

He ignores all of them and calls Aubrey first thing the next morning, inviting her over to watch films as he nurses his hangover. He tries not to feel guilty at her pleased eagerness, and he assuages that guilt by throwing himself into kissing her. Lying on his bed, his guilt allows things to go further than they ever have before, within minutes he has Aubrey’s top and bra off, he’s shucked off his own top sitting in just his jeans, his mouth covering her neck with short, sharp, sweet bites, wishing with his whole heart that her soft skin under his fingers could bring the same reaction that the feel of Derek’s heartbeat had the night before.

And that’s how Derek finds them, his eyes wide with shock, anger and something Stiles has never seen before. He backs out of the room, apologies falling from his lips as Aubrey frantically covers herself, the embarrassed flush on her cheeks staying with him as she nearly runs from the room, a quick kiss to his lips, the pleased smile on her face warring with her embarrassment. 

The next day at school he waits for the reaction, for a word, a comment, anything. But Derek acts like none of it happened, not the dance or the situation in Stiles’s bedroom the day before. And Stiles comes to the sickening conclusion that in catching him and Aubrey the day before, Derek has the reassurance he needs that his best friend isn’t going to try and jump his bones, and so things slots back to normal. 

And if Stiles noticed that it’s around about the same time Derek stops touching him, that the friendly hugs vanish, that Derek now sits with Erica in between them both at group movie nights, well that’s only to be expected, that’s what you do when you don’t want your best friend to start dry humping you in a club because you show them a little affection. That’s the price Stiles has to pay for not staying strong, for letting his guard down for even a second.

It could be worse though, he still has Aubrey, he still has Derek, or at least part of him, and he will never let his guard drop again, will never ever do anything again that will jeopardise the friendship he needs more than anything else in the world.

… 

With a blink of an eye their Senior year is almost over and all anyone can talk about is Prom, who’s taking who, what people are wearing, take your own car or hire a limo, who had hired a hotel room. Aubrey has taken to dropping some pretty broad hints about them getting a room and it’s something he starts to consider, because that’s what you do right? And then something happens that turns everything on its head. 

Erica and Derek break up. 

Derek brings it up almost casually, over lunch with the girls all away at the prom decorating committee meeting. 

“Erica and I broke up,” Stiles chokes on his water and drops his fork into his mash potato, his chest constricting painfully as Derek pushes his pork chop around his plate. Scott looks up surprised before stomping in with the finesse of a bull. 

“Dude so does this mean you two aren’t chipping in for the limo? Cos I only have enough if we are all paying……ow,” Scott complains, staring at Stiles and rubbing his ankle. “Dude, that hurt.” 

“No we are still going,” Derek says softly, a small smile on his face, “we’re just going as friends.”

“Dude, you ok?” Stiles asks, his voice soft and concerned. His heart skips as he’s rewarded with one of the first real smiles he’s been graced with for months and Derek’s fingers spreading on the table until their pinkies graze softly. 

“I’m fine,” he replies. “It was something we both wanted, we both felt it was time we stopped…”

Whatever Derek had been about to say was drowned out as Allison, Erica and Aubrey descend on them, their chatter bright and happy. Stiles tries to catch Derek’s eye as Aubrey slides into his lap, her hand winding round his neck and playing with the hair she had convinced him to grow out for prom, but Derek’s looking at Scott and Allison, entering into relaxed conversation and almost appearing to avoid looking at Stiles and Aubrey. 

Maybe he just wants to make it clear that just because he and his girlfriend are history that doesn’t open the floodgate to best friends with ridiculous crushes. He feels eyes on him and turns to find Erica staring at him, a soft, considering look on her face and he quickly enters into an inane conversation with Aubrey about a game he just picked up, the last thing he needs was any of his friends finding out about his idiocy, Derek had been pretty good at keeping things between just them. 

This didn’t change anything, Derek would find someone else and with any luck Stiles would at least like them as much as he did Erica. Throwing himself back into the conversation about prom, teasing Erica about her scarlet red dress, he totally misses the eyes now following his face and hands as he talks about the _under the sea_ theme, his voice bright with animation, his eyes sparkling. He totally misses the look of almost desperate longing on the face watching him, but other eyes caught it, caught the look and the almost manic desperation of Stiles’s conversation, and a decision was finally made. 

…

Two days before prom Stiles finally learns what it feels like to break someone’s heart.

His day actually starts out pretty good, he picks up his tux for prom, the last couple of years had added a little bit of bulk to his shoulders, and him dropping lacrosse for track had left him, although looking nothing like Derek, with a leanly muscled look that kind of suited him. Although he would never admit it under pain of death but growing out his buzz cut had made him look older, less baby faced, and the tux, plain black with a ridiculously, stupidly difficult bow tie actually looks pretty fantastic on him. His dad’s face is a picture as Stiles turns from his mirror fiddling with the stupid bow tie, his eyes shiny and a little red, a look of fierce pride on his face and makes Stiles feel amazing.

He knows his dad worried a lot, about how Stiles would fit in, about the trouble he got into, the trouble he got his dad into and now here they are, Stiles less than three months away from starting a Lit degree at Georgetown (Stiles doesn’t even remember how he managed to get in), although not the most popular kid in school he has friends, good friends, solid ones who would lay down in traffic and, hell, even fight vampires and werewolves and the Volturi for him. Not that Stiles has ever watched or read Twilight! There are just some things you know as a teenager when you date a teenage girl…right? Although he personally thought Aubrey was nuts, he was totally Team Jacob, Edward was a creepy ass stalker, give him a werewolf any day.

Ok and not for the first time, he thanks God his dad has no idea of the mental dialogue that runs through his head at all times of the day.

“You look good son,” his dad says, thankfully breaking him out of his twilight centric thoughts. “you look like…a man”

“Well good job,” Stiles quips. “After all I was born as one, I was born as one right? You aren’t one of those parents who had to make that… no wait, know what? Even if you did, I wouldn’t want to know.” His mile is wide as his father shakes his head and starts to grin, he hates the idea of his father crying, happy _or_ sad tears.

“Pity your mouth hasn’t caught up with your body,” he says, although the tone has no bite and Stiles knows, no matter what, right at this very moment his dad is proud of him and that feels…well it feels pretty damn great.

“Hello son,” his dad says wryly, his head moving from Stiles to the window behind him and Stiles sends up a prayer of thanks, that his dad is cool enough to not mind the fact that his best friend has a window fetish. Turning round, the grin wide on his face, he’s surprised to see Scott standing there and not Derek, jeez was this window thing catching?

“What’s up buddy?” Stiles asks, unravelling his tie as Scott flops down on the bed.

“We need to talk,” Scott replies, his voice taking on a tone of seriousness that Stiles rarely heard from him, in fact the last time Scott looked this serious was the night his dad left. Stiles mind starts filling in the blanks, each scenario leaving him more worried than the last.

“I’ll leave you both to it,” his dad smiles at both of them and shuts the door. 

“What’s wrong? Did you and Derek start fighting again? Cos I’ve told you before I’m not getting in the middle of that shit again. Is it Allison, did her dad go nuts again? I’ve warned you about sneaking into her room he isn’t stupid you know, is it your mum, oh jeez Scott is it your mum?”

“No, no,” Scott puts his hand up, cutting Stiles’s words of quickly seeing at a glance that his friend’s heading towards major panic. “It’s nothing like that, well not quite, it is about Derek though.”

“What about him?” Stiles asks. “Look if you’re going to start on the prom limo again, you need to calm down, I’ve told you it is..”

“No,” Scott bites out, this time a little more forcefully. “It’s about _you_ and Derek.”

“What about us?” Stiles replies confused. God, he hates when Scott’s like this, his face showing he totally doesn’t want to say what’s on his mind and Stiles knows he’s going to have to drag every damn word out of him. 

“You need to tell Aubrey the truth about Derek, about you and Derek, about _your_ feelings for Derek. And while you are at it, I think you should maybe talk to Derek too.” Scott says all the words in a rush as if he’s trying to force them out unwillingly.

“I…..look…Scott…..I don’t know…..there is no _me_ and Derek,” Stiles finally finishes, the words ringing around the room, leaving him empty and hollowed out. It’s the first time he has ever said them out loud and if anything, it hurts worse than all of the times he’s told himself them in his head.

“Stiles,” Scott says softly. “It’s ok you know, I figured it out a while ago, I know I’m not always the quickest out of the stall but it has been pretty obvious for a while.”

The wind goes completely out of Stiles’s sails at Scott’s softly spoken words.

“I didn’t think it was….God Scott how did this all get so fucked up?” Stiles can feel the tears stinging the back of his eyes, the look of gentleness underlined by pity on Scott’s face making him feel like he’s coming undone. “Do you think he knows?” Stiles asks, his voice cracking, even as he knows the answer, of course Derek knows, the amount of times Stiles has thrown himself in his lap, he _has_ to.

“I don’t know,” Scott answers, his brow furrowing. “Sometimes I think he does, something about the way he looks at you.” Stiles cuts the conversation dead at Scott’s words, he does not need to know about Derek staring at him with pity, feeling sorry for the friend with the stupid crush.

“Look Scott, it doesn’t matter, I mean it does, but I’ve gotten used to it by now and we’re friends and…”

“What about Aubrey?” Scott cuts in.

“What?” Stiles asks confused. “What about her? She has nothing to do with this.”

“Nothing to do with it? Stiles are you serious?” Scott’s voice is starting to rise, a look of disbelief and almost _anger_ on his face and, ok, that’s a new one. “Stiles the girl is in love with you.”

Stiles opens his mouth to interject but is cut dead by Scott. “No don’t give me the you don’t think she is. I’ve watched her, the girl is head over heels for you, and what you are doing isn’t fair. You are my friend, my best friend and I know you, you aren’t cruel or mean but what you are doing with her is both. Imagine you thought Derek loved you back.” Scott’s voice pauses briefly and he looks contrite as Stiles flinches at his words. “Look buddy I’m sorry but imagine you were with Derek and you thought everything was fantastic, and you found out the whole time he was with you he loved someone else, can you think for a second what that would feel like? That’s what you’re doing to Aubrey.”

Stiles starts to shake his head, wanting the denial to be clear and strong but Scott’s right, dammit Scot’s right! He knows, Stiles does, has always known that Aubrey had fallen for him, in a lot of ways he used that love as a balm to soothe the pain of Derek not feeling the same way. Aubrey loving him had proven that he could be loved, that someone loved him, that someone wanted him. But none of it had been fair to her.

Clearing his throat he blinks back the tears, God he’s turning into such a wreck, looking at Scott it’s hard not to smile through the tears, his face’s concerned but resolute and a little freaked out at seeing Stiles cry. Stiles knows his friend would do anything to take this pain away from him, but he won’t let him do it by hurting someone else. For the first time he sees the shape of the man Scott’s going to be and he realises that he isn’t the only one growing up, and that Allison is a lucky girl.

“You’re right,” Stiles states sadly. “I’ve been an asshole, no seriously,” he continues as Scott tries to wave his hand over the words. “What I’ve been doing isn’t fair to anyone, to me, to Derek and definitely isn’t fair to Aubrey. She’s coming over tonight, I’ll talk to her then.”

Scott made a small sound in his throat, a cross between a moan and a sigh, as if he just realised that what he’d done meant this buddy’s alone again. Stiles puts a stop to it quickly, no way is he going to let Scott feel bad about doing the right thing.

“Seriously buddy it’s fine, although you may have to cough up more for the limo, I don’t think Aubrey is going to take this like Erica did.”

Scott’s heartfelt groan makes Stiles smile again, it was always good to know that no matter how many things changed, some things would always remain the same.

… 

In the end, Stiles finds out that breaking someone’s heart is far quicker and far suckier than he could ever have imagined. Aubrey cries, a lot. She asks Stiles repeatedly what had gone wrong, no matter what he says to her, nothing seems to make her realise that it wasn’t anything she had done. 

She cries, she screams, rants about how people don’t fall out of love that easy, that there has to be _something_ but Stiles sticks firm no matter how much seeing tears streaming down her cheeks makes him want to stab his own heart and pull her close. There’s nothing, he just doesn’t feel that way anymore. Of course he could go for the unvarnished truth, that he never actually loved her to begin with but he isn’t that cruel and he also likes having _all_ of his man parts in tact.

She leaves having moved from upset to furious, and then the text messages start. 

He tries to answer all of them, each and every single one as truthfully as he can without hurting her anymore, but he falls asleep at 3am and wakes up to seven new messages the next morning.

Seven messages that he just can’t seem to find the right words to answer. 

…

School is a nightmare, in a town as small as Beacon Hills, news travels fast, and Aubrey’s friends were quick to tell her side of the story. Depending on who you spoke to that morning, Stiles had been dumped for a lacrosse player, had dumped Aubrey for an affair with an older neighbour/A freshman/or the coach of the lacrosse team and Stiles was gay and having an affair with Danny Mahealani. It’s pretty ironic that the one closest to the truth’s the one discounted the quickest, but he’s pretty sure that was more because everyone knew Danny wasn’t Stiles’s type more than Stiles not being gay.

He walks in on at least three of his friends in the middle of shutting down arguments and rumours, the most entertaining of those is when one of the cheerleaders repeats the Coach rumour to Erica, who then turns on full on mama bitch mode and leaves the girl questioning her sanity, her taste in boyfriends and, he thinks, her dress sense.

By the end of the day Stiles is shattered, he avoids the lunchroom completely and slides onto his seat next to Derek in history, surprised but pleased by the soft shoulder bump he gets as his butt hits the seat.

“So Coach Finstock huh? That was enlightening.”

“Shut up,” Stiles says, trying to ignore the smile he feel creeping across his face at Derek’s soft, teasing tone and their legs, flush against each other, making Stiles feel warm for the first time in a long time.

“But no seriously is it true you can do that with your legs?”

“You’re a dick,” Stiles replies, looking over to see a small smile on Derek’s face.

“And that thing you did with the ice cream, wasn’t that a little messy.”

“A dick,” Stiles repeates forcefully, his fist bumping against Derek’s arm in the lamest punch ever.

“Ow,” Derek replies, his hand rubbing the spot. “Is that what your manly coach lover taught you to do?”

“Fuck you.” Stiles laughs.

“Oh if we could, but I don’t want kicked off the lacrosse team.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

Stiles smiles at the now wide grin on Derek’s face, it might not be perfect, he might still fell crappy, and guilty and just a little bit lonely, but for the first time that day, he realises he’s going to be ok.

 

…

It doesn’t change anything, breaking up with Aubrey, or Derek breaking up with Erica, sure he feels lighter, can breathe a bit easier but other than that life just shifts back into a familiar pattern, lunch with friends, and as the prom draws nearer and nearer, and then suddenly prom is tomorrow, talk of dresses and cars and who would be spiking the punch dominates every conversation. 

 

“We gotta go,” Lydia announces standing up and grabbing Allison. “Dresses to plan, things to do,” she sing songs. “Erica?” she asks a question in her voice, but no one is particularly surprised when Erica shakes her head. “Nope I’m good here.”

“Ok,” Lydia answers with a smile before linking arms and wandering off to God knows where. Stiles still doesn’t have a handle on girls just yet and the whole Erica/Lydia truce was just one of the many ways in which he feels he never will. He watches them go and quickly scans the room for Derek, it’s pretty unusual for him not to join them for lunch. Room scanned and Derek still not located, it takes little time for Stiles to sink into some kind of self depreciating depression, thinking Derek and he are now single both single, but still not even close to being the way Stiles wishes they could be.

He sighs, and misses when Erica slides into the seat next to him and lays her hand on his thigh. 

“You ok kiddo?” she asks softly, her smile soft and sweet and Stiles swallows round the lump in his throat. 

“I’m good,” he shrugs and watches as Derek and Scott laugh about something. 

“You sure cos you’re kinda looking like someone killed your puppy,” she cocks her head to the side and Stiles rolls his eyes, runs his hand over his hair. He’s still not used to the length yet and Erica sighs as she reaches forward and pats it back into place. 

“I don’t have a puppy,” he grins and Erica rolls her eyes. 

“Wise guy,” she mutters and then turns in her chair to look at him face on, “you gotta tell him Stiles.” 

“Tell who what?” Stiles asks with a sinking feeling in his stomach. 

“Derek,” Erica lowers her voice, “you gotta tell him how you feel because you know what? I feel like we’ve all wasted enough time…so tell him…please,” Erica squeezes his knee. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Stiles mutters and crosses his arms over his chest and Erica gives him that look, the one that makes Stiles squirm in his seat. 

“Stiles...I’ve known for ages,” she admits and then she looks guilty and sad. “I feel like I have to apologise to you.” 

“For what?” 

“For being selfish, for keeping Derek with me when I knew he wanted to be with you.” 

“He doesn’t want that,” Stiles shakes his head and tries to keep the quiver out of his voice. Erica lifts his chin with her fingers. 

“You sure? Because believe me Stiles, I have made a sport of watching the both of you, and Jesus I have never seen anything like it. They way you look at each other…it’s like…”

“But…you and Derek,” Stiles interrupts and Erica raises one eye brow. 

“I fell hard for someone Stiles, when I first got here, but…he wouldn’t look twice at me, Derek did, and Derek became my security, as much as I became his because he was in love with his best friend. We were both selfish, but I’ve got the chance to put things right now. To push you towards who you should be with, so do me a favour and tell him how you feel about him,”

“What about you?” Stiles twists his fingers together and Erica smiles secretly, squeezes his hand briefly and runs her thumb over his knuckles. 

“I’m going to do what I should have done when I first got here,” she kisses his cheek and stands, takes a deep breath and stride across the dining room towards Isaac. Stiles watches as his eyes widen and a blush appears on his cheeks as Erica sits down in front of him. But there’s something in his eyes which tells Stiles he feels exactly the same about Erica as she does about him. 

And he makes a mental note to get the whole story out of Erica tomorrow at the prom. 

…

A part of Stiles thought it would be more, more glamorous, more amazing, more _something_ but in the end it’s just the high school gym, a few streamers and a band that was only chosen by a few select members of the year who throughout high school had determined everything to who was cool to what the school budget got spent on.

He knows he sounds bitter and he will never voice any of this to Lydia as he knows, not only is she one of those select few, but she has worked her ass off on all of this but it just left him feeling…disappointed.

The limo ride was awesome, climbing into the back seat of a car with the people that matter most to him, the people who actually helped him survive high school. Every single one of them meaning something to him, even Jackson, who actually managed to become slightly less of a douchebag than he had once appeared.

Squeezed in between Scott and Derek, his thigh pressing against Derek, listening to Allison and Erica and Lydia’s laughter, seeing Derek’s wide smile, Scott’s besotted grin, and Isaac’s shy looks at Erica under his lashes. Taking shots of something that tasted of aniseed and wickedness with Boyd, Jackson and Danny, listening to Derek and Scott warning him of regretting it in the morning and Derek’s hand guiding him back to his seat. All of it is perfect, this is what high school is about. Shaping you up to be the man you want to try to be, the man other people believe you can be and being surrounded by the people who help you discover who that is.

Once they get inside though everything just sort of fizzles, now here he is, at his High School Senior prom. He watches Jackson and Lydia be crowned King and Queen, whoops and cheers with everyone else because they deserve it. He smiles as Allison and Scott disappear through the crowd and then he watches Isaac ask Erica to dance. She looks classic tonight, incredible and classic, with her hair in a low twisted knot and she blushes prettily as Isaac holds out his hand to her. Stiles finds it hard to hold back a smile, at least until he had sees Derek watching them, before leaving the room a look of desolation on his face. It had been at that exact moment, the magic had fizzles.

Heading outside he realises the night is done for him, he doesn’t want long drawn out pleas to stay, better to head off now, let everyone else enjoy the night. To disappear and wake up tomorrow with a clear head. 

At least was the plan until he sees Derek sitting on the steps, staring at something in his hand, looking for all the world like someone has stolen his best friend and kicked his puppy for good measure.

It takes him less than two seconds to change course, to head towards the one of the few people in the world that he can’t bear to see sad, ever.

“Hey buddy,” Stiles says easily, plopping himself down on the stair besides Derek.

The slight ‘hey’ he gets in return forces him to look down, to find something to start the conversation, to make this less _awkward_ . But as soon as he catches glimpse of what twists around Derek’s fingers his chest feels too tight to breathe.

“Why have you for a hotel key?” The words are out of his mouth before his brain can catch up. He could have figured it out himself if he’d taken a moment, he sighs heavily as Derek twists the key over his fingers. 

“I planned on maybe using it,” Derek replies almost sadly.

“Planning to finally win our bet,” Stiles jokes, his attempt to lighten the mood falling flat, as the words land heavily between them.

“No.” Derek states forcefully. “It wasn’t for sex, well at least I don’t think so, I just wanted to do something special, something different, something that would make sure this night would stand out, you know what I mean?”

Stiles does, he wishes he doesn’t but he understands only too well, he knows exactly how he would have liked this night to work out for him. 

“Then why are you acting like you don’t give a shit?” He finds himself asking. He wishes he could leave it, but like a scab that needs picking no matter how much it hurt he keeps digging. “I mean, look, I get she thinks she has this thing for Isaac, but maybe that’s because you’re acting like you didn’t give a shit, if you told her how you feel, maybe that would be different, in fact no maybes, it _would_ be different, you are Derek _fucking_ Hale for Christ’s sake.”

Even as the words come out of his mouth out his brain s arguing with him to just shut the hell up, what the fuck is he doing, does he like pain, because that would be the only explanation in the world that would explain arguing with the guy he loves to go get his girlfriend back. But no he loves Derek and he adores Erica and if Stiles can’t have the life he wants, he can at least see the people he loves happy.

Stiles dares to sneak a peek to see how he’s taking it, he expects pissed off, Derek hates being told he’s wrong, especially by Stiles, hates even more being told what to do and right now Stiles is doing both. What he isn’t expecting is for Derek to be looking at him like he’s the stupidest person he has ever met (ok kind of expecting he, he gets that look a lot to be honest). A mixture of anger and befuddlement on his face, but it’s his eyes that tell the most, they aren’t angry or confused, they are dark and empty and just look _lost_.

“You really don’t get it,” Derek murmurs under his breath. “How the fuck, after all this time, can you just not get it? Know what? Never mind.” Derek goes to push himself up and there is the anger Stiles had been expecting. 

The smart thing to do now would be to stop picking the scab, but hey Stiles never said he was all that smart when it comes to Derek. 

“I don’t get what?” he asks, his tone showing his confusion. “I don’t get what it is like to love someone and want them to love me back? I don’t get what it is like to watch that person with someone else and wish I could do something, anything to make them look at me? That I don’t get what it is like to hurt every single day because I love them with every fucking ounce of my body and I cant even tell them? I get that Derek trust me, and if that is what you are feeling right now then you owe it to yourself, to me and to Erica to just go into that hall and tell her.”

Derek is standing stock still, the anger seems to seeping out of him as Stiles rants. The dank oppressive feel of depression is moving, shifting.

“That’s the part you don’t get,” Derek says a smile on his face. “It’s not about Erica, it never was.”

Stiles feels the shift almost perceptively this time, it’s hard to dampen down the hope that’s shooting through him, but he tries, just because it isn’t Erica doesn’t mean... But God who else would it be? Unless Derek has been harbouring a secret crush on Scott, or Lydia, or Dear God Jackson. Stiles doesn’t realise he’s talking out loud until he hears Derek groan.

“For the love of God Stiles of course it’s not Jackson.”

Stiles is going to protest, is going to say something witty, or funny or at least something that makes more sense than this conversation, but he doesn’t get the chance to, before he can speak Derek’s there, pulling him into him, their bodies jarring together. It isn’t like Aubrey, or even like the last time they kissed. Derek’s mouth is covering his, their bodies so close together almost uncomfortably so. There’s no softness of breasts, or soft skin, Derek’s made of hard lines, and stubbled skin that rubs and chafes. There’s no soft sweet kisses that taste of honey, instead there’s a mouth that feels like it’s claiming him, moving against his, taking everything he has. There’s no small hand, fingers playing against his jaw, there’s a huge hand, calluses at the base of the fingers, cupping at Stiles’s face, fingers pressing in behind his ear. It feels hard and rough and desperate. It feels amazing, it feels like coming home.

He’s dimly aware of the needy moan that he pushes into Derek’s mouth and then feels more than hears the whisper against his lips, the softly spoken “It’s you Stiles, it always was.” He doesn’t know how he has the strength to reply but his mouth is always quicker than his brain, and it’s hard to stop the words falling.

“So Erica was right,” he states, as he pulls back from Derek, more than a little dazed, drinking in the sight of Derek’s smile, of his eyes, dark and hooded, his pupils blown wide open with want, for Stiles.

 

"Right about what?" Derek asks, his mouth moving up Stiles’s jaw in a way that’s far too distracting.

“Well she knew that I was harbouring certain feelings for a tall dark handsome moron and she seemed to think that maybe he might feel the same way?" Stiles replies, and he totally does not squeak the end of that sentence as Derek’s teeth nip at his earlobe and his hand flattens against the small of Stiles’s back, bringing their hips flush together. .

“Which is?” He can feel Derek smile against his neck.

“God, you’re going to make me do all of this aren’t you?” Stiles huffs, although the smile growing on his face at the same rate as the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest belies his annoyance.

“You are emotionally retarded you get that right?”

Derek pulls back with what seems more than a little difficulty, dragging his mouth away from Stiles’s neck, but not before sucking a bruise onto the soft skin in a way that makes Stiles’s knees go weak. Derek’s eyes are soft and bright, but there’s lust burning in them, the twist of his lips and look of almost overwhelming fondness tells Stiles far more than a couple of words ever could.

“Ok, I love you, you happy now, not only that cos to be fair you’re my best friend and I’ve always loved you but that love is now being matched with an equal need to jump your bones and attack your lips with my mouth, happy?”

“So whats stopping you?” Derek asks, with a quirk of his eyebrow and a twitch of his fingers against Stiles’s back. 

“Um…” Stiles runs a hand across the back of his neck, “the fact that we’re outside…in public, and as much as my dad loves you, I don’t think he will if you gets a call saying you’re taking advantage of me in the school parking lot,” Derek nudges his nose against Stiles’s and rumbles out a laugh from his chest. 

“Taking advantage?” 

“Well I am younger…more innocent…easily lead astray…” Stiles words die as Derek drags his teeth gently down his chin, his grip tightening on Stiles. He pulls back suddenly, the easily amusement, the softness gone from his face replaced with curiosity and a hint of pain. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks and Stiles knows what he’s asking, but doesn’t want to have to relive the depression, the hurt from the last god knows how long, sometimes it seems like a lifetime. 

“That I’m younger?” he quips, “Well Derek I know you’re not great at Math but even you could work that out…” Derek cuts him off again with a small, almost unheard growl, moving his arms to Stiles’s and gripping tight. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“The first word out of your mouth after we kissed,” Stiles says before he has time to stop himself, “was Erica…,” Derek’s nostrils twitch and his grip relaxes, “I thought…”

“I was trying to tell you everything…” Derek sighs out, moving his hand around Stiles again to the flat of his back, the other coming up to run his finger tips across Stiles’s cheek, “and then we made that stupid bet,” he shakes his head, “and then I promised to play nice even though it _killed_ me to see you with her,” Derek’s grip tightens again, pulling Stiles closer and he can see the dark lust flash in his eyes again. 

“Possessive much,” he jokes and Derek doesn’t smile, just presses his thumb under Stiles’s chin to force his head back slightly. 

“You have no idea,” he says before kissing Stiles. It’s not hard, it’s not desperate and needy and it’s not soft and exploring. It’s possession, in kiss form, it’s Derek saying I love you, I need you, never fucking leave me, all in one simple kiss and when he pulls away Stiles takes a second to reel in the overwhelming emotions. 

“So…,” his voice cracks, throat dry, “there’s a hotel room somewhere?” Derek arches an eyebrow and his fingers twitch against the small of Stiles’s back. 

“Where’s the Jeep?” 

…

They don’t make it to the hotel room, Derek growls out “pull over” half way there and attacks Stiles’s mouth with his own, hauls him into the back and worms his hand down Stiles’s tux pants. Stiles groans, arches, trails nails down Derek’s back as Derek thumbs the slit in his dick. There’s a brief pause, a tangle of limbs and shirts and pants but then gloriously, finally, there’s skin against skin and Derek spits into his hand, wraps it around both of them and twists it, slides it upwards, runs his palm over the tip of Stiles’s and back down both of them again. Stiles may or may not let out a string of curses that turns the air between them blue, and he may or may not chant Derek’s name as Derek’s dick slides against his own. 

“Tell me again,” Derek grinds out, skin slick and hot against Stiles’s, his lips brushing over the pulse in Stiles’s neck, “tell me.” 

“I love you,” Stiles winds his hands into Derek’s hair, pulls his head up and back down, kisses him hard and arches his hips into Derek’s tight grip. He comes, with Derek’s teeth pressing into the soft skin of his bottom lip, “Derek.” 

Derek comes then, a groan, a rumble in his chest, his come hot against Stiles’s stomach, his head pressed to Stiles’s neck and Stiles tightens his grip on his hair. 

“You too,” Derek mutters, lazily licks at Stiles’s throat, up his underside of his chin, into his mouth. 

Stiles wakes God knows how many hours later, shivering in the back of his jeep, with cramp in his right thigh, and come dried and flaky on his stomach. But Derek’s got an arm around him, his chest pressed to Stiles’s back and his nose smashed up against the back of Stiles’s neck.

Stiles has never been happier.


End file.
